


Stuck in this Together

by TurtTurt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Corona Au, M/M, Mutual Pining, Quarentined Au, Romance, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Stiles Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Virus, Werewolves, You knew this type of story would happen at some point, but i do promise one bed, not in the first chapter, one bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25647511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtTurt/pseuds/TurtTurt
Summary: “You can’t do this, I have rights!”Stiles looked up from the book he was reading to see a large man being pushed into the room.“Not when you’re carrying a ticking time bomb.” The door was slammed shut before he could pick himself off of the carpet.Two weeks in an all-expenses-paid inn with a stranger, what's the worst that could happen?From the way he assaulted the door, a lot of things
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	1. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of a two week all expenses paid quarantine with a stranger, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not the first of its kind, but here you are, a quarantine Sterek AU. 
> 
> I hope you are all doing well and socially distancing! May this fanfic enable you to retain at least a bit of your sanity!

“You can’t do this, I have rights!”

Stiles looked up from the book he was reading to see a large man being pushed into the room.

“Not when you’re carrying a ticking time bomb.” The door was slammed shut before the man could pick himself off of the carpet.

“I don’t have the virus! How many times do I have to tell you!” He slammed his fist into the door before leaning his forehead against the wood.” I couldn't have it if I wanted it” He gritted through his teeth, glaring at the inanimate object.

Stiles could swear a growl was emanating from this man toward the obviously hostile door.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Stiles gestured toward the door that the man kept in his embrace. His head swivelled to the side, expression changing when his eyes met the teenager’s own.

“I can’t be trapped here.”He muttered, unconcerned about the first impression that he had made.

“It’s two weeks buddy. Two weeks in an all-expenses-paid inn, real tragic.”

Instead of an actual response, the man scowled at him.

“What? It’s not the worst situation. You could be in a crusty “by the hour” hotel. Those don’t even have microwaves but we have an entire toaster oven.” The longer he talked, the sharper the glare got. The stranger eventually huffed, pulling out a phone and plopping himself on the bed facing away from him. Stiles pretended to be intrigued by his book, glancing up every few seconds as the man typed into his phone. He jabbed each button as it had spat in his mouth.

“What do you want?” He grunted, turning towards Stiles

“I didn’t say anything.”

He has the audacity to not introduce himself, act all mysterious and not expect an ounce of curiosity.

After a few more silent minutes without introductions, Stiles decided to take the lead, “Have you ever been to this type of hotel before?” Every conversation Stiles tried to strike up was shot down by one of the man’s five randomly chosen irritated responses before he finally got to the point and introduced himself.

“My name is Stiles. I was going back to live with my dad when I was stopped and quarantined here for ‘Suspected Contamination’. Since we’re in the same room I’m going to assume that’s also why you’re here?” Maybe if Stiles opened up first then this guy would too.

“It’s Derek.”He grunted,”I’m not sick.” 

Stiles Tapped his index finger against his face as he thought, “Did you happen to be taking bus four about a half an hour ago?”

“Yes, why would that-“

“You were on the same bus as me, that’s why we must have gotten paired up. Same batch, same contamination.”

Derek stood in silence, barely reacting to Stiles’ deductions. 

Stiles stilled for a minute, grin falling off of his face, Derek’s complete lack of social skills throwing him off a little. 

He made the transition to another subject. “Since we’re already on the topic, I feel like we should talk about the sleeping situation.”

“Already on the-?” Derek’s hardened expression broke to puzzle the statement. He stopped short, encouraging Stiles to elaborate.

“As you can clearly see, there is only one bed. They told me it wouldn’t be a problem because I was supposed to be in here alone, but once you’re in, you leave only after your two weeks. It’s dumb but they said no exceptions and I don’t think they’re dripping with leniency considering the whole Coronavirus pandemic.“Stiles paused for a moment, stopping himself before he went into rant mode,” What I’m trying to say is, how are we dividing bedtime? A week each one after another or every other day?” 

Stiles gestured to the indents in the carpet where the legs of the previous bed had been at least four times during his speech.

“Just take it.” Stiles could feel Derek's eyes resisting to roll at his long-winded explanation and didn’t know if he should have been flattered that he tried to stop the urge or impressed that he had most likely unknowingly annoyed Derek into giving up the bad.

At least the issue has been addressed .

The next day was much the same as the last, Derek refused to say sentences longer than five words to him, kept to himself, and scowled like the hotel would disappear if he just tried hard enough.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Stiles realized that Derek hadn’t made _any_ other sleeping accommodations for himself.

Stiles stood over Derek’s sleeping body. He winced just looking at the way Derek slept; draped across the desk chair yet still sitting straight up. It was like Stiles was seeing his father gorge on fast food, horribly depressing and honestly quite sad. He couldn’t just let Derek’s spine get fucked up because he wanted the bed all to himself.

Stiles made a quick call down to the main desk before getting to work.

He grabbed every cushion in the room, thankful that both the seat and backrests detached. Once he was done, every cushion was laid end to end. He covered it all with the extra sheet set that had been delivered per request and made the bed with a blanket or two. 

They might have to sit on the springs of the armchairs for the next two weeks, but at least he wouldn’t have to live with Derek’s spine on his conscience. 

When Derek finally woke up at nine in the morning, Stiles was long done with the makeshift bed. 

Derek rubbed the sleep off of his face and stretched out.

“Morning.”Stiles was sprawled on his stomach on the bed jotting down notes. 

On his way to the bathroom, Derek stopped dead in his tracks next to the new bed. He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his brows scrunched in uncertainty.

“I figured you’d want someplace more comfortable to rest your rump.”

“Thank you.” He grunted before continuing on his way to the bathroom. Stiles hadn’t even been expecting thanks. He figured a “huh” would be the best of it, the worst case being a scowl and icy accusation of insulting him. Stiles let out a satisfied sigh and went back to his notes.

He had done his part to try to get along with his new Corona-roommate, hopefully, he would lighten up.

It wasn't long after until there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” Stiles yelled, not bothering to move from his spot. He waited a few minutes before slapping his hand against his forehead. It had only been a minute yet he had already forgotten about the whole “minimum contact” thing. He hopped up and grabbed the door, snatching the two sealed trays at his feet. 

Stiles had one in each hand as he moved to the table. Simple enough, until you add in the factor of a shirtless Derek, still damp and glistening from the shower. He just about dropped the trays at the sight. A hand steadied on his shoulder as he regained his balance. 

“You scared me, I didn't know you were there.” Stiles sighed. Derek gave him an odd look for just a moment before shaking it off. He looked like he couldn't believe what Stiles was saying.

Stiles forcefully kept his eyes above the neck, his willpower draining quick.

“The food’s okay,” He confirmed before continuing,” I forgot my clothes.” He muttered in explanation.

If Stiles happened to stare at the chiselled back as he walked away, that was his secret. He hopped back into what he was doing, no longer distracted.

Stiles set up the food on the table, Derek’s going in the only other spot in front of him. He sat and waited for a minute, staring at his food and waiting out of courtesy. He swung his feet, kicking at the wooden floor until a thought hit him. He hopped up from the chair and started to dig through his travel bag. He didn't like taking his meds on an empty stomach, he had to grab it before he forgot.

When he was done rooting through his bag, there was only one tray left on the table.

So much for waiting.

Derek sat in the chair that he awoke in. He was on his phone facing the wall.

Two weeks without any other sort of social interaction and he had to get this guy.

Stiles huffed quietly and returned to his spot at the table. Resigned to eat alone and in silence, he started eating. He swallowed his pills at some point during the meal

“Damn it”

“What?” Stiles turned toward him, asking through a mouth full of egg.

“I was not talking to you.” He grunted, leaving his mostly empty plate on the chair. Stiles turned back around, paying no mind to the rustling behind him, his curiosity wouldn’t win this time.

There was a soft thunk a bit behind him as Derek presumably dropped his bag onto the ground. “Shit.” 

For someone as stoic as this guy, he sure was overdramatic when it came to body language.

“You need help with something? We could call the desk, they might be able to assist.” Stiles was a true master at minding his own business. This was further proven by the piercing glare that shot at him.

“Not unless you have something that would fit in here.” He slammed his phone onto the table as gently as one could slam something. Stiles looked at the port, it was the standard micro USB. With the way that he spoke, it would be safe to assume that he had very little technological knowledge.

“That’s the same cord I use for my camera, you can borrow it if you want.” 

It felt like minutes had gone by. Stiles continued his eye contact until he got his eventual response.

“I would… appreciate that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, would you look at that! I promised bed sharing and you shall receive, don’t be discouraged by the first chapter. I have a bunch of fun stuff planned so hang for the ride!


	2. Like glue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks without any semblance of organization wasn’t gonna cut it; he’d feel like a slob in no time.
> 
> When his roommate doesn’t exactly feel the same, Stiles takes it upon himself to pick his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, out in no time :D

“I would… appreciate that.”

Stiles smiled and hopped up to dig it out of his bag. Derek grabbed it out of his hand as soon as it was officially held up in offering. He’d never seen someone attempt such a polite snatch. 

There was something awfully endearing about watching this brute try to be polite despite his body rejecting courtesy like the plague.

He hunched over his phone next to the outlet, forgetting about his food until long after it had gone cold. 

This was the extent of communication that he got from the other.

Derek wasn't much company, but it was admittedly better than being alone. At least when he was talking out loud, he could claim it was towards Derek. At least he got a grunt or two for his efforts.

Lunch and dinner was spent much the same as breakfast, just the sound of chewing filling the silence. Derek intercepted Stiles to the door each time, grabbing his own tray sitting facing the wall opposite to Stiles. Maybe he was just a sloppy eater; embarrassed by the thought of eating in front of someone who wasn’t family.

 _Derek was just another person like him, trying to mind his own business without getting annoyed by some stranger every few minutes._ Stiles forced this into himself every time a hint of curiosity surfaced to his head.

His books were interesting enough, he didn't need to crack another mystery. A moody traveller was not one to be trifled with.

Correction, a moody traveler was not one to **usually** be trifled with. This moody traveller was just the distraction he needed to keep his mind off the imminent doom that his Corona-susceptible body awaited.

~

The next day, Stiles stopped Derek before he could still in the corner with his meal.

“Sit.”

He only got a puzzled look in response so he elaborated,” Sit at the table and eat with me like a person. You don’t have to huddle in the dark corner like some creature of the night.”

Stiles just about pictured Derek hanging upside down from the curtain rod like a bat. He could do sit-ups like that, maybe that’s how he looks like _that_.

Derek grunted in amusement which Stiles took as a good sign. He sighed and hesitated as he was sitting down. Stiles wasn’t afraid of any awkward conversation, he hadn’t taken his medication and was stocked up on useless trivia. If he talked long enough, Derek was bound to contribute just to stop Stiles’ endless chatter.

Despite sitting across from each other, Derek’s body was still aimed toward the wall. 

Close enough.

Stiles prodded his prepackaged meal around the bowl, poking at the almost-grey amalgamation. Maybe having Derek as a roommate wasn’t the worst thing about his stay; not if the mush had anything to say about it.

By the next meal of the day, the new routine had already been established. With a look from Stiles Derek had resigned to sit at the table again. At least Derek wanted to keep the peace between them, even if it meant the mortifying task of sitting down to eat. 

Despite this, Stiles could have sworn that at some point Derek looked like he wanted to slam Stiles against a wall. He should consider taking his meds **before** eating to avoid near-death circumstances.

He didn’t know what the big deal was with not sitting at the table, Derek was on his phone all day, he couldn’t spend twenty minutes off it? 

Stiles needed some sort of human interaction or else he would lose all the charisma that he had. It was Derek’s problem that he was quarantined with him. 

~

It wasn’t long until Stiles figured that it was additionally his own problem that they were quarantined together.

While Stiles chose to occupy himself in his books and studies, Derek found it more beneficial to maintain his body. This meant working out whenever he was detached from his phone.

Honestly, he didn’t mind the repetitive creaking of the floorboards, the heavy breathing, or the occasional grunts; it was background noise, good for focusing on his work. Honestly, it was refreshing, a break from the white noise of the constantly whirring vent. The sound didn’t bother him, what did bother him was the glistening man that bobbed up and down within his line of sight.

Like a vampire from Twilight, Derek glistened, the sunlight reflecting off the individual sweat droplets. 

Stiles thanked every god out there that Derek had faced opposite to him before he started his exercise routine. He didn’t have to mask his interest in the muscles that were sculpted finer than by Michelangelo himself.

Stiles got a bit of a workout too. He had to test his reaction time each time Derek happened to look over.

With a physique like that it was no wonder that Derek spent so long exercising. So long that when Derek hopped in the shower at the end of his session, Stiles had already fallen asleep.

When Stiles woke up the next morning, he was quite surprised to see Derek draped unceremoniously lengthwise across the bed. A black shirt was clenched in his hand, most likely very close to being worn if Derek hadn’t passed out.

Usually, he would have hopped up and gotten on with his day. He figured that it would be rude to wake him when he looked so dang comfortable. Stiles picked up his phone from the tin it was charging in and resigned to scrolling through social media until his quarantine pal woke up.

Every once in a while he would glance over the top of his phone to see how Derek was doing. His upper back lay on Stiles’ calves with his butt on the edge of the bed. While one hand was lightly clenched around his shirt, the other held his phone. He either fell asleep while getting dressed or while he texted. He had been seated on the edge of the bed and flopped backwards as his body gave up on him. 

Normally, Stiles would get up to open the blinds, let in the light and kickstart his day but Derek must have left them open on accident.

The morning sun spread over Derek’s tanned skin, touching everywhere within its reach. It transformed the chiselled expanse of flesh into a spread that looked softer than plush. 

If he had any less self-preservation, he would have reached out and tested the texture. 

He silently prayed that Derek couldn’t feel his body heating up. If he woke up to Stiles’ wandering eyes and increased body temperature, he would die of embarrassment if Derek hadn’t killed him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! I’m been pondering over this idea for a while, I’m glad that I can finally bring it to fruition!!


	3. Fedangling boxes of pastry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a search to occupy his time with something, Stiles finds a boxed cake mix and a tub of frosting, if that wasn’t serendipitous he didn’t know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cake AND half-naked Derek? What else do you need?

It was a bit nerve-wracking waiting for Derek to wake up. He knew that he had to play it cool.

Something like,” Oh, sleeping on me? I didn’t even notice” would probably do. Derek barely spoke as it was, if this made it even _more_ awkward between them, Stiles wasn’t too sure what the result would be.

Every so often he glanced up to make sure Derek was still breathing. With his neck craned back like that, he wasn’t sure how Derek stayed alive and to top it off, asleep.

He wasn’t a perv, but he could appreciate the human form in peak condition. Derek’s body was a peak if he’s ever seen one. As he attempted to stop admiring the glorious body before him, the bed jolted.

His head whipped toward stiles, teeth bared and hand feeling around where his head had lain. As soon as he reacted, he was back to normal, although somewhat red in the cheeks. 

“What are you doing?”

“Accusatory much?” Stiles responded. Derek may be a man of few words, but that didn’t make the words that he **did** speak any special. 

Derek’s eyes scanned the room, landing on his own hands last. He must have figured out the situation because he quickly pulled the shirt on and pulled himself off of Stiles awkwardly.

“Oh.” He got up and immediately went to sort through his bag.

“Good morning to you as well.” Stiles chuckled, already used to Derek’s thoughtlessness.

Since Derek had gotten up and freed his legs, he got up to start his day for real.

He picked up his travel bag and chucked it on the bed. He needed his laptop to work on another college scholarship essay. He propped himself on one arm and plunged the other into the depths of his backpack. Feeling something square and generally laptop shaped, he tugged his arm free with a good grip on it. 

When he looked at what he brought up, it wasn’t a laptop. A small doughboy mocked his failure from the face of the package. It was a box of cake mix.

“Why… do you have that?” Derek’s haze was pointed at the odd look that Stiles was giving an inanimate object.

“My laptop is buried at the bottom of my bag. I’ve got more random last-minute crap in here from my dorm than I have clothes. I must have shoved it in here before I left because I had forgotten it behind at my dorm.”

He chucked the box aside and stuck his hand back in.

“Wait, frosting too? This is a sign from above, I gotta make this cake.” He chucked the Funfetti frosting jar in the air and caught it again. 

“What do you expect to cook that in?” Derek asked, watching Stiles rip open the box with his teeth.

Stiles explained his idea of mixing it up in his Chug Jug and using paper cups to make a bunch of literal _cup_ cakes.

“You can’t put paper in a toaster oven. Find something metal to cook in.” 

“I don't think I have anything, you wouldn't happen to have anything I could use?”

Five minutes later after scrounging through their belongings they had collectively gathered a pile of materials. Stiles looked at the mess with a tad bit of pride, maybe this would work after all. They had found: a mostly-empty altoid tin, a mason jar with only a single pickle left, and most importantly, an old cookie tin that was occupied with sewing supplies.

“I read online that you don’t even need eggs in these boxed mixes which are good for me. I carry coconut oil for shaving and water comes from the tap so I’ve got all I need.”

Derek went back to the bed and stared down at his phone, obviously uninterested now that he was no longer needed.

Stiles started by pouring the cake mix into the mason jar, now clean and un-picked. It only took about a minute of stiles spilling cake mix all over the counter in his attempt to get it in the jar until Derek sighed and went over to help.

He washed his hands and motioned for Stiles to pass over the box. 

“Cup your hands like a funnel.” He muttered. When Stiles complied, Derek gently poured it through his hands. In the end, Stiles barely had any on his hands anyways.

Derek must have gotten into it as much as Stiles because he was already working on the next step of the mix. Stiles washed out the cookie tin as Derek meticulously eyeballed the number of ingredients.

Staring at the oil wasn’t going to measure it, but it could have been melting a bit more under Derek’s fiery glare. He poured it in little by little until he deemed it the correct amount, doing the same with the water afterwards. They added a bit more water to replace the moisture from the eggs and got to mixing. 

Soon enough they had filled up the cookie tin as well as the Altoids container.

“Once it’s done, we don’t even have to take it out right away, we can keep the lid on there until we need the container back.” Stiles beamed at the thought, it was smart and convenient, why didn’t he do that more often. 

Probably because he could make a nicer looking cake or preferably just buy one.

It was fun to do it with Derek though, maybe Stiles just liked baking more than he recalled. He glanced to Derek to gauge his reaction.

Derek wasn’t scowling at the toaster oven, he didn’t look upset at all like usual. His hands were on the side of his stomach, bracing his elbows up. He was hoping that Derek also felt his pride.

Despite Derek’s warning of burning hands and melting frosting, once it was done, Stiles immediately started to lather the frosting on.

He looked to the counter where the discarded sprinkle package lay. It had come with the frosting, “Do you like sprinkles? I know that some people don’t really like them.”

“They’re fine.” 

Stiles got to work with the sprinkles, carefully placing each one.

He beamed as he showed the final result to Derek.

“Happy Quarantine?”

“There’s always a reason to celebrate. We are still alive aren’t we?”

After cutting out slices with a plastic knife, they dug into it. It was still a bit warm when they put it in their mouths.

“Thanks for helping out, it was fun.”

Stiles smiled up at Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and an additional thanks for the support!


	4. Not so Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up to find Derek a bit closer than he preferred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Physical school is back in for me! In no time everything will go back to like it was before all this. I hope you're all doing alright with these strange circumstances.

Almost immediately after they had finished their servings of cake, a knock on the door signalled the delivery of dinner. After all the hard work of cooking and decorating, the day had been spent.

“This might sound controversial, but I think that went well.” Stiles announced, looking at the dishevelled counters,” The inn hasn’t been reduced to ashes so I’d say we did a good job.”

Derek’s face twitched ever so slightly. He wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t paying attention.

Stiles threw out a bad joke to soothe the tension before excusing himself to start cleaning the kitchen.

It was only after they had cleaned up the kitchen that they realized they still had a mess to clean up. Everything in the kitchen was spotless, everything except Stiles who had cake mix dusted across his chest and legs. 

He had spilt it on himself when he was pouring the mix into the jar but hadn’t bothered to pay it any mind.

He took off his shirt to minimize spreading it to the rest of the room and used it to wipe a bit off of his jeans.

His issue only surfaced when he sorted through his belongings.

“Shit.”

“Hmm?” Derek hummed from across the room.

Stiles scratched the back of his neck and kept staring at the dishevelled bag. 

“I’m out of clothes,” he sighed. He was supposed to stay in a hotel for a single night so that he didn’t risk his belongings on public transit. He was lucky that he grabbed as much as he did, his indecision making him pack two extra sets of clothes plus the 18 pairs of underwear that he brought just in case he shit himself twice every hour on his journey home.

“I think the inn offered to wash our clothes if we needed it. We’re both dudes so I guess I can just wear underwear until they wash it. It’s kinda cold in the near-buff though so I guess I’m staying under here,” He patted the blankets.

He glanced over his shoulder briefly before disrobing and stuffing his clothes into a plastic bag. A label was drawn with a sharpie before he placed it out the door. The last thing he needed right then was for the staff to throw away his clothes.  
It was pretty late, so Stiles just hoped that they'd do another round and have it to him by morning.

When he got back in the room, a pile of folded clothes was on the bed.

“Derek, you didn’t need to-“

“Just wear it. Don’t make it a big deal” He grunted.

Stiles did as he was told and left it at that. If he wanted to help him, who was Stiles to refuse a kind gesture?

He sat on the bed as he tied the strings of the sweatpants before slipping the T-shirt over his head. It was a bit big on him but he didn’t mind, it was cosy and comfortable. If only he had a body pillow.

As he was getting comfortable on the bed, he noticed something. Instinctually, Stiles held the shirt up to his nose. 

Mortified, he dropped the shirt. He glanced over at Derek to make sure he wasn't looking before letting out a sigh of relief. What kind of weirdo sniffs another man’s clothes? 

He didn’t think that so much embarrassment as possible in 24 hours, not until he woke up underneath a large familiar arm.

He hadn’t realized it at first, blamed the excess warmth on the cosiness of the hotel room. The manager must have thought a blazing heater could kill the virus. That was until he heard breathing behind him.

Stiles lay dead still and panicking. It was awkward but it wasn’t uncomfortable, all he had to do now was wait until Derek woke up and got off of him. His attempt to carefully shimmy out from under Derek only resulted in the arm tightening around him.

Stiles caught himself holding his breath at the movement. All he could do was manually breathe until his body took care of it for him. 

He tried to relax, maybe even go back to sleep, but all he could focus on was the warm air at the back of his neck. A tingle spread from the spot where Derek’s breath met his flesh. 

Eventually, he ended up accepting that he could not rid himself of the embrace and drifted off to the sound of their synced heartbeats.

When he woke up, thankfully, Derek had gone. Stiles could hear the droplets of water pelting the ceramic of the bathroom and thanked every deity that he would have a minute to organize his thoughts. He got himself situated with the motions of the day and even had a chance to grab the food from the door and set it on the table.

When Derek had emerged from the shower, Stiles had decided on playing dumb.

Stiles kept his head in his book while he greeted Derek, “Morning.” 

Derek repeated the acknowledgement before going his way to start the day.

“Chow’s here, I was just waiting for you.” He plopped his book down and proceeded to his chair. They had discovered their preferred chair by then, excluding the desk chair that Derek spent most of his time in. 

It was a couple of minutes into the silent meal until stiles broke the ice.

“Looks like my clothes haven’t gotten back,” Stiles noted.

“Hmm,” Derek mumbled something unrecognisable without looking away from his food. 

Stiles figured that it wouldn’t hurt to laugh at Derek’s expense.

“How’d you sleep?” Stiles casually asked, this time staring down his own food to keep his expression the same. 

Derek coughed, barely covering his mouth in time to not breathe all over their food. Derek apologised for almost coughing all over their food as he turned away and grabbed a napkin to cover his mouth.

“Swallowed wrong.” He muttered, grabbing a water bottle and clearing the contents before continuing,” I slept alright. That bed you made works fine.” 

Stiles had to take an extra-large bite to disguise his smile. Stiles succeeded in seeing an emotion in Derek that wasn't anger or stoic silence so that was a win in his book. 

The blush creeping up his face was a bonus.

"How about you?" He added as an afterthought.

“I woke up a tad warmer than usual, guess the staff can’t decide what they want the thermostat at.”

When Derek let out the smallest sigh of relief Stiles shoved his mouth with food to hide his smile.

After all Stiles had tried to seem normal it must not have worked as smoothly as he hoped. As they returned to silence to continue eating, Derek kept glancing at the man across from him. It seemed sudden when Derek broke the silence to ask if he was feeling alright.

“I’m fine. Like extra fine. I don’t have the virus if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No, I just noticed that your-“

“Are you immunocompromised? If they’re gonna pair up people from the same bus travel stations things they should really ask this stuff.”

“No, no, I’m not. I just noticed that you seemed a little…” he paused for a moment despite having plenty of time to think as Stiles rambled on.” a little excited?”

“It’s probably just the food. Didn’t realize how riled up I looked over the cosmic brownie.” He chuckled nervously. Derek must have noticed his smile, or it could be Stiles was that obvious in his body language. He checked his shirt, brushing off a few crumbs while he discreetly checked if his heart was beating out of his chest. 

“If you say so, just give me a holler if you start to feel lightheaded” Derek went back to his food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Share your thoughts and encouragements below! :D
> 
> Don’t forget to leave Kudos to show me that you like the story!


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